The Laughing Master
by Leo-Novum
Summary: This entire problem started because I was barmy enough to accept a job offer from an Einzbern. Trust me, never trust a German when it comes to magical problems.
1. Chapter 1

The Laughing Master: Chapter One

AVALON

I stamp my feet about as the snow slowly drifts down. It's a bloody awful winter for a broke bloke like me and many of you might be wondering why  
am I even wasting my time, standing in Hyde Park at ten in the morning even though the lack of sunlight makes the whole place look like some part of Gotham. I reach for my pocket even as reason urges me not to while habit persuades me. Habit wins out in the end and I pull out the pack of ciggies. Lighting a fag in my mouth with a snap of my fingers, I look around the deserted park. Nobody is out right now for some reason but that just makes me more conspicuous to any passing eyes. It's around ten below zero and bound to get colder at night.

Why am I, John Constantine, exorcist, con artist and petty dabbler in the dark arts, waiting here in Hyde Park like some lost soul? Well, the answer to that is interesting in itself. It starts with me being drunk out of my mind three days ago, nearing the end of the month with nothing in my pockets except a deck of tarot cards and half a pack of Silk Cuts. I received a telephone call from an anonymous source which promised a much better deal if I turn up at ten o'clock in Hyde Park. It wasn't as if I had much of a choice. Now that I was here, I was severely regretting making it.

I was sitting on a bench, looking at the water when I heard him approach. I turned around to face him and made sure to get a good look at his face. They say that eyes are the windows to the soul and if that was true then I was looking at the most soulless blonde kraut I had ever laid my eyes on. He wasn't even shivering even though he was only wearing a white jumper over some shirt and trousers.

"Mr. John Constantine, I presume?" He asked. The way he pressed his lips together and how he stared at me made me think that a negative answer wouldn't be appreciated.

"Ah, yah. That would be me." I said as I got up. I offered him a handshake but he simply coldly stared at me until I dismally dropped it. What a bastard.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Constantine. I have been reliably informed that you are reasonably well versed in both the magical and the mundane worlds. My name is Otto von Einzbern and I am here as a representative of my family with a business proposal." The man said in a monotone. I had a sudden urging to punch him on his perfect cleft chin. Pleasure my arse, you couldn't even bother to raise your arm a few inches and touch a plebeian like me? But business is business and I kept my face straight.

"Well, I am flattered by your source's description." I said bitterly.

"It was not said in kindness." Came the cold reply. Christ, did the man even understand sarcasm? I didn't mean it 'in kindness' either.

"Well, let's hear it then." I said a little harshly. "What sort of business are you proposing?"

The kraut's eyes narrowed. For a moment, I thought he would try to kill me outright. I wouldn't be surprised either. There were just so many magicians in society running around in their fancy little pants, thinking themselves so high and mighty only because they could do a bit of magic. Some would even fling around magic for a bit of a lark, completely ignoring the lives of the innocents while others would go power-mad. I don't know much about the Einzbern but I at least do know that they have more restraint than the average mage.

"We need you to retreat the Avalon, sheath of the sword Excalibur." He said finally after contemplating whether or not to speak. The snow kept falling around us as the words seemed to go through my head, each syllable hitting harder than the last.

"Are you serious, mate?" I asked incredulously. It's not that I don't believe in the existence of such items. Hell, I've encountered more fantastic and outrageous items than some simple old scabbard. The reason I found myself so speechless was because I was being asked to retrieve such a priceless artifact. Most of these families which had their heads up their arses usually sent their own progeny after artifacts like these just for them to earn their stripes. Or to kill them off to thin the herd but that was essentially the same thing really. The thing was, they weren't going to send some common con man like me for such a grand task.

Unless, of course, they couldn't find it themselves and were now getting desperate. I took a long draw from my cigarette before throwing the stub away. Now this was interesting even if it was just as dangerous. A desperate mage will be willing to negotiate but he will be just as willing to blast you to pieces. Maybe I should hear what are they offering first.

"That's all very nice, lad, but what's in it for me?" I asked. Could have worded it better but I need to give the impression of a common thug, not someone with a working brain. I am willing to bet that he doesn't regard me very highly. No one actually regards me highly.

The kraut reached for inside his coat. I tensed, expecting the worst but he simply took out a blue box and held it out for me. I hesitated before taking it. I muttered a few safety spells I knew but the box proved to be harmless as far as I knew. Holding my breath, I opened the box before exhaling rather sharply once I saw what was inside. There were three diamonds, uncut, each the size of my thumbnail.

"Each one of these is worth a million pounds, Mr. Constantine. This will be your down payment. The other seven will be delivered to you personally after the success of your mission. Good morning." Otto von Einzbern said stiffly before turning around and beginning to walk away.

"How will we keep in touch?" I yelled at him.

"You won't contact us, Mr. Constantine, we'll contact you." The kraut said as he walked away, not even bothering to turn and look at me. I just stood there, diamonds in my hands, somehow feeling that I had taken part in something I shouldn't have. There was only one thing left to do now. I walked over to the nearest telephone booth.

"Chas?" I said through chattering teeth, the cold finally finding a way through my trenchcoat. "Come over to Hyde Park, that's a good lad."

* * *

"Constantine, what an unexpected pleasure." Jerry O'Flynn exclaimed tiredly, as if he had to force the enthusiasm, before standing aside. "Come in! It's not every day a man of your caliber visits." He looked behind me and noticed an extremely surly and shivering Chas standing outside. "Well, all of you better come inside."

Jerry O'Flynn was a collector of strange, magical, magically strange and strangely magical objects. And drugs. He apparently always kept an unhealthy and illegal stash of cocaine in his house if rumors about him were true. If there was anyone who could track an absurd item on short notice, it was Jerry. He gave the appearance of some madman who had stepped out of a story and probably was, a fact that gave him a lot of grief.

"What's the matter, Jerry? You look knackered." I commented as Jerry led us to his study. The walls were lined with several tomes, books and grimoires, some mundane, several magical while a few not falling in either category. Jerry immediately pounced on the nearest bottle of grog and poured himself a snifter which he downed in one go.

"Another one of those blasted young writers came to interview me. Just because I have a persona most don't doesn't mean that I should be plagiarized or copied so frequently. William O'Conner, Ian O'Flaherty, James Donner, Magnus G. Tolstoy, all of these are characters based on me! And people keep confusing me for them!" Jerry said angrily. I simply waited for his anger to subside. "But you're not here to listen to my tragedy. Speak, Constantine, what is it that troubles you?"

"Jerry," I said slowly and clearly to make sure I wasn't misunderstood. "I am looking for Avalon, the legendary sheath of the sword Excalibur."

Any other person would have laughed. Even mages would have laughed in my face. Jerry is a different case. For Jerry, it never is insane enough, queer enough, weird enough to be disregarded. The fat old man merely stroked his beard thoughtfully before getting up and retrieving a book from a shelf.

"It's strange for you to refer to the scabbard as Avalon. It's actually the name of the island where Morgan Le Fay lived. According to legend, it is here where Arthur's first sword, Caliburn, was forged. It was here where King Arthur was taken after he had been hurt to the death by his enemy and son, Mordred." Jerry recited.

"Yes, that's very nice but what we need is the sheath." I said impatiently.

"Patience, young man. It is only through perseverance will you reach you bounty." Jerry scolded before turning back to his book. "It is said that the sword Excalibur was thrown into the Lake and the sheath was thrown before it by the Lady Morgan Le Fay." Jerry closed the book with a snap. "Now the obvious thing to do, of course, is to find the correct lake!" he said with a flourish.

Chas groaned from his seat. "Smashing. Absolutely smashing. There are hundreds upon hundreds of lakes, lochs and pools in all the length and breadth of this country. Do you plan on visiting every single one of them and sticking your hand in to check if some blinking broad chucked a scabbard down?"

"Of course not, my rather vocal acquaintance. We are going to narrow down the number of places where something as magical as a legendary sheath can be." Jerry said as he waddled over to a chest of drawers and pulled out a rolled up map of some sort. He came back and pinned it to the wall with thumbtacks he found from somewhere. It was a map of Britain with ley lines drawn over.

"Now, according to legend, Arthur was carried over to Avalon after the Battle of Camlann. Before being carried off, he ordered one of his knights, whether it was Griflet or Bedivere doesn't matter here, to throw Excalibur back into the lake. This means that all three places, Camlann, Avalon and the Lake need to be within riding distances of each other." Jerry theorized. Chas merely grunted.

"Well, it sounds reasonable enough, old chap, but it is still purely conjecture. Aren't you going to back it up with some sort of proof or at least theory?" I said, goading him. Jerry likes to bombast and draw out the obvious and I need him to be quicker.

"Glastonbury." Jerry said suddenly.

"Pardon?" I said, quite confused.

"The ley-line passes through Somerset, one of the likeliest places for the Excalibur to exist. The place is perfect as well. There used to be a lake here, if I recall, which was later drained off. The Glastonbury Tor was a marsh in those times, giving the Tor itself the appearance of an island. The battlefield itself could now be Queen Camel, near the River Cam, Somerset. There you go, Constantine, I found your blasted sheath for you. Now you owe me something back." Jerry said in a satisfied manner. I gritted my teeth. Jerry, as I keep forgetting, is a businessman. A business to whom money is secondary to collecting rare and queer items but a business man nonetheless. And just like a businessman, he had given me nothing and was already making demands. Bollocks.

"Jerry, we don't know for sure if your hare-brained theory is correct or not." Chas groaned from the seat. "We just can't pay you for nothing." Good old Chas, always being the voice of reason in a stupid little world.

"I am willing to wait, Constantine." Jerry said magnanimously, ignoring Chas completely. What a bastard. "In return, I would like a photograph of the legendary sheath."

Well that was quite cheap. I had expected him to ask us to retrieve Excalibur or something of the sort. Maybe Jerry could be a reasonable sort after all.

"Let's go, Chas. The game's afoot." I said as I mentally prepared for the long drive to Somerset with my anguished driver at my heels.

* * *

Here I was, standing back in Hyde Park. The entire retrieval turned out to be pitifully uneventful, not that I was complaining. We found the legendary sheath buried under the Tor at its foot. All I had to do was basically run a simple divination spell and the magic led me to where it was. Talk about luck. We took an entire roll of photographs and posted it to Jerry. Bloke turned out to be correct after all. Chas could scarcely believe the sight but decided not to speak anything. It was beautiful alright. The golden and blue scabbard looked as if it had spilled out of legend into the grimy modern times of England. How much King Arthur must be actually crying about the state of affairs of Old Blighty is something I don't know and I don't care to know. What I do know is that I am about to trade this thing for seven million quid.

The kraut appeared after a few minutes, right on schedule. I took out the lit fag from my mouth before dropping it and snuffing it out. Must appear professional after all.

"Do you have it?" Otto von Einzbern asked tersely. This is the first time I had heard emotion from his voice. Not that I have heard him enough times but when someone who is all about appearances looks haggard, it means shits been about. The bloke looked as if he hadn't slept properly for days.

I simply threw down the duffel bag I had on the ground. The kraut immediately bent down and unzipped it greedily. There was no light but the sheath seemed to glow all on its own. Avalon illuminated the man's face, making it look even more haggard and skull-like. He suddenly stood upright, making me back away a little. It was at these moments when employers tend to off their employees so that any secret may remain safe.

"You have performed adequately." The kraut said with a sniff. He might have looked regal if it wasn't for the slight drool still hanging from the corner of his mouth and a brief smile of glee he still had. He reached for his coat pocket and I reached for my lighter. Better be safe than sorry.

He brought out another blue box, similar to the one he had given me a week ago but slightly larger this time. He held it out for me and I reached over to take it.

That was when everything changed.

A sudden spike of pain erupted in the back of my right hand. It seemed as if someone had attacked it savagely with a knife. I gripped it with my good hand and tried not to scream. Blood flowed out of my fingers and freely dripped out.

"You sodding bastard." I said trough gritted teeth. It was the kraut's fault, I was sure of it. Trust me to make such a mistake. Trust me to be naïve enough to trust a mage like him. Fucking back-stabbers, the lot of them.

"Show me your wound. I swear on the Root that I didn't do anything." The kraut said, sounding concerned. He reached out and gripped my wrist. His hand was unexpectedly soft yet firm. I could get used to a hand like that. He forced my good hand away and looked at my injury.

I am not going to say that it was the queerest thing I ever saw but then again, it did make the top ten list. The wound was gone and replaced by some sort of blood tattoo in the shape of a curved sword and two crosses above it. The entire tattoo looked a little like a smiley face like the ones on five penny pins.

"Mein gott, a command spell." The kraut muttered. I knew that tone. It was the tone of someone who has to cancel parties, the tone of someone who has to do something unpleasant yet necessary, the tone of someone who had to kill you. I yanked my hand away and jumped back.

And then things started happening extremely quickly.

The Einzbern raised two jeweled golems out of the ground. Apparently, they had already been stored there or he could simply form them out of available minerals. I didn't know and I didn't care. I needed a fire quickly. I reached for my lighter and flipped it open. The flame sprang out, lively as ever. There was no time for me to recite a spell. I would simply have to charge the flame with magic and shoot it straight at the kraut.

Einzbern's golems leaped at me. My fireball leaped at Einzbern.

The fireball hit the kraut square in the chest. I don't think the poor bloke actually expected me to be so much faster than him which was why he didn't even bother shielding himself or maybe my magic managed to tear through his shields. The golems exploded into a thousand fragments before they even hit the ground. It was over.

"Constantine…" Otto von Einzbern croaked. I walked over to his dying body.

"What is it?" I asked. I am not going to say that I felt pity for him. He did try to attack me after all. But I guess that didn't mean I didn't have to listen to his dying words.

"Hear me Constantine…" Otto said, struggling for breath. "You… may have… defeated me… but… the Einzbern… will avenge me! Our new weapon… Kiritsugu… will defeat you… in the… Grail War…" he said.

"What's a Kiritsugu?" I asked, nonplussed.

"My death… won't be... in vain!" Otto said before dying with a twisted smile. I simply stood there, in the middle of snow, jewel fragments and blood. For a moment, I felt like screaming up at heaven and calling out the Authority. Why me? Why is it always fucking me? Why give me all the weird shit? Why do I get the melodramatic ones? Here I was, expecting a nice sum of money to help me stave off any worries about the future and this huge pile of shit just had to fall in my lap, didn't it? Bollocks.

But I didn't. I simply picked up the blue box of diamonds and the duffel bag containing Avalon. Then I cremated Otto von Einzbern and wished him luck beyond the veil. Guy was an arsehole but that didn't mean he didn't deserve some sort of ceremony. Then I simply walked out of Hyde Park.

It was time for me dig into whatever this Grail War was.

* * *

**Name: John Collier Constantine**

**Species: Human Magus**

**Alias: The Laughing Magician**

**Element: Fire and Earth**

**Origin: Trickster**

**Sorcery Trait: Synchronicity**

**Circuit Count: 40 (The Constantine Family line doesn't require Magical Crests)**

**Circuit Rank: C- (Circuits tainted by injected demon blood)**

**Circuit Speed: B+ (Circuit speed increased by injected demon blood)**

**Strength: D (Constantine isn't strong even by human standards. His strength is usually magically augmented.)**

**Endurance: C (Constantine isn't tough even by human standards. His endurance is usually magically augmented.)**

**Agility: C (Constantine is slightly agile. Most of his agility isn't magically augmented.)**

**Magic: D (Constantine severely lacks the fire power most magi can boast of. He usually has to rely on cunning, deception and trickery. He can, however, boost his abilities using various herbs and roots or amulets and artifacts)**

**Luck: A+ (The entire Constantine family line possess the signature magic of Synchronicity Wave Travelling, the instinct ability to be able to be at the right place at the right time. This luck is further boosted whenever Constantine is in mortal peril, allowing him to survive what even most magi cannot.)**


	2. Chapter 2

The Laughing Master: Chapter Two

ARTHUR

I groaned loudly as the light attacked me, burning eyes with holy lances of brilliance. What the hell did I do last night? Did I get so pissed that I hopped into bed with another man or woman?

Again?

"Good morning, you useless lump." I heard a familiar voice. I groaned as the sound, which seemed to come out of the very throats of Hell's bells, thundered in my ears.

"Rick, how did I end up in your house?" I asked, trying to keep my headache from killing me outright.

"Funny you should ask. You were brought here by someone who told me that you told him that I was your friend. Apparently, you were buying everyone drinks and were dancing on the tables. Pity I missed the sight. Would have been worth quite something." Rick's voice said. I groaned and dared to open my eyes only to shut them quickly again. Christ, just what did I drink anyways?

The events of last day started to run in my head. The Einzbern, the blood tattoo, the sudden duel, the even more sudden death. What kind of an idiot was he anyways? Why didn't he shield himself from my flame? It was a weak spell and even a minor magician should have survived it. Instead, I end up killing a human being. No wonder I decided to get drunk. I groggily patted my coat and felt a small amount of relief when I felt the box in my pockets. Apparently, my good luck is still holding for now.

The Constantine line is said to have the luck of the Devil but didn't Old Nick lose to the Heavenly Host in the battle that mattered the most? Not that I am sympathizing with that bloke but the analogy, in my opinion at least, is a load of crap. But then again, I do have the luck of the devil after all. Just when I thought I would end up with ten million quid, I end up with a crisp kraut. Well, at least, I still had the money. I reached for my pocket and pulled the blue box of diamonds out. With a satisfied smirk, I flipped open the box.

It was empty.

It would be wrong to say that I didn't feel a thing. I only didn't yell or sob because I was feeling nauseous and my head started spinning. But the pain of the loss of my precious diamonds was very real. Damn you, John Constantine. Why did you have to go and get drunk like a fish like that? Oh right, the murder. For the umpteenth time, I wondered exactly what I had drunk and how much of it.

"So, why were you muttering the name of the Magus Killer last night? Anything bad happen?" Rick asked curiously.

"The What Killer?" I asked blearily. Whatever I was talking about can't be a good thing considering it has the word 'Killer' in its name.

"Magus Killer. Kiritsugu Emiya. You were muttering his name quite a lot. Did the Laughing Magician finally meet his match?" Rick asked in a semi-humorous tone. Rick Westinghouse doesn't have a drop of magical blood in him and yet somehow, it doesn't stop him from being extremely up to date about the magical world. The only reason I don't visit him often is because he tries to wrangle news out of me as well and I don't like that. Some secrets are secrets for a good reason.

"I don't understand what you're talking about." I groaned although the name Kiritsugu felt quite familiar. I tried pressing my mind but my mind was currently more interested in driving me crazy.

"This is what I am talking about." I heard Rick before something large hit my face. I opened a single eye to see what had Rick thrown at me. It was a copy of the Amulet, a fourth rate tabloid about the occult which even third rate tabloids about the occult laughed about. Written in bold letters was the headline "CREMATION IN HYDE; CONSTANTINE STRIKES AGAIN!"

Ironically, this is the first time they had gotten a correct headline.

I groaned as I realized just what had happened. Most tabloids were, thanks to my bloody exorcism attempt in Newcastle, quite inclined to sling mud at me for any occult accident or incident. Couldn't blame them though considering what a dodgy affair it was.

Alex Logue was the owner of the Casanova Club and was a third rate sex-and-drugs type magician who was more interested in orgies than in magic. He had a daughter, a little girl named Astra, who was an unwilling participant in her father's proceedings. Unlike her father though, Astra had genuine magical prowess and ended up killing everyone with the Norfulthing, something she somehow summoned. We, the Newcastle Crew, a group of seven wannabe magicians ourselves, decided to take matters in our own hands.

Let's just say that we severely underestimated the entire thing. When you fight fire with fire, most of the time you're just left with ashes. I accidentally sent that girl to Hell and I still haven't managed to rescue her.

"So," I heard Rick pull something before sitting down. "Start talking Constantine unless you want to be injected with sodium pentothal."

Slowly, my memory of the previous day leaked back into my mind. The kraut did say something about a Kiritsugu before dying so melodramatically. At that time, I had thought it was the name of some strange Oriental weapon or artifact. So, it was a person the Einzbern had probably hired. I briefly debated with myself whether or not to tell Rick about the funny things that happened yesterday before caving in to myself and deciding to let the cat out of the bag. Not that it was properly in the bag to begin with.

"Constantine, you have the kind of life most murderers wank to. Seriously, you burnt a hole through his chest before cremating him. Not only that, you robbed him blind as well?" Rick said, a little disbelievingly. Sure, go ahead and act surprised Rick. I am not going to fall for your eager audience act.

There was a knock on the door. Despite my hangover, I scrambled out of the sofa and tried to hide blindly under it. There was no knowing who might be at the door. Could be the police, the MI-6, the Freemasons, Interpol, the Clock Tower or maybe even all of them. The thing was, it would be wise to hide. Rick, on the other hand, leisurely got up and answered the door. After a few minutes of talking, Rick came back with my duffel bag in hand.

"The bloke who carried you here just gave me this. Said you left it back in the bar." He said, casually tossing the bag on the ground. I groaned once more. I couldn't hold on to my seven million quid but the legendary scabbard of King Arthur walks back here, cool as a piece of metal. Bollocks.

I didn't bother yelling out at Rick as he unzipped the bag but I did roll my eyes at his sudden string of exclamations and curses. I just remained under the sofa and concentrated on recovering. This was, overall, proving to be a horrible year for me. The Queen had just declared this year as _Annus Horribilis, _what with the royal scandals and the Windsor Castle fire, and I shared that sentiment. Maybe I am sounding too much of a tosser here but right now, I would kill someone just to get rid of this headache.

"What is this?" I heard Rick say in a mystified voice.

"That, my boy," I said, trying to muster some authority in my voice and failing miserably. "Is the legendary sword sheath Avalon, tossed out of the lake by the watery broad the Lady-of-the-Lake and later tossed back in the same lake by the same broad."

"Oh." Rick said, still sounding awed. "Oh." He repeated, this time sounding less awed and more comprehending. I didn't like that tone. It meant that Rick knew something that I didn't. I don't like not knowing things, especially when they concern me.

"So you're participating in the Grail War, eh?" he asked.

"Rick, I still have no idea what you mean by that." I said wearily.

"Look, I know a bit more about the magical world than you, alright?" Rick said. I snorted slightly. He maybe more up to date but Rick doesn't know more about the magical world than I do. But I let him keep his victory. I needed to know about the Grail War and if it means stoking his ego, I am going to stroke it. "There is a thing called the Holy Grail War which happens in Japan every sixty years. You apparently have been selected for participation."

"Holy Grail in Japan? Has the Vatican started drowning in its own wine? Why would it happen in Japan, not the Middle East?" I asked.

"You don't understand. From what I've heard, it's not the actual Christian Holy Grail but is something nearly as powerful. They say it can grant any wish." Rick said.

I opened a single eye before opening the other. Slowly, I crawl out from under the sofa, weak as water, and sit cross legged on the floor. The light still burns my eyes but I endure it.

"Continue." I said, my curiosity roused. Rick simply smiled a bearded smile before beginning.

* * *

Two hours later, Rick finished explaining all he knew about the Holy Grail War of Fuyuki.

"Bugger." I muttered quietly, looking at Avalon. Rick simply nodded

I was still sitting in Rick's floor. The room was moderately large and dry. Pale and weak London sunlight fell through the window behind me and illuminated the room. Either the heating system was broken or Rick had decided to switch to coal fires because there was one in his hearth. A lot of oil paintings, newspaper clippings and photographs were pasted on the walls around. There was an easel standing near a broken telly with an unfinished and ugly painting of Tower Bridge. Most people pegged Rick for a conspiracy theorist. Unfortunately, he wasn't.

"So, you're saying that I'll somehow have to bring some famous dead bloke back to life using a spell I don't know to fight in a war I don't care about?" I said grumpily. The headache was weaker now but still wasn't gone completely. Rick simply nodded once more. "Bollocks to all of it." I growled as I searched my pockets for a fag. I didn't find any and settled back, mood even sourer now.

"Now don't say that, Constantine. I know that look. It's the same look that left me naked with only a pen and a toothbrush in Spain. Do you know how you made my way back? Hitch-hiking and sketching for change. I can see that you're interested in this Grail War stuff and you can't deny it." Rick said. I muttered something rude about him. He was right. I was interested.

A wish is a powerful motivator after all.

"Looks like I'll have to break into the Clock Tower again." I muttered.

"I would recommend against that, Constantine." Rick said light-heartedly before he noticed my gaze. "Oh Christ, you're serious! Why do you want to break in to the Clock Tower? Have you forgotten that the entire Barthomeloi Clan is still out for your blood?"

"I need to learn everything about this Holy Grail War thing. I don't know the spell, for starters." I clarified.

"And your first thoughts are to break into the Tower? Why don't you just ask me?" Rick said.

"Wait, you know the required spell?" I said incredulously. It's sometimes hard to understand that Rick is just a mundane. He can fetch magical objects and artifacts just as well as any other magician and mage.

"No, but I can get it for you. I have enough contracts. But there's a favor I want to ask of you." Rick said hesitantly.

"I am not giving you the wish." I said immediately.

"Not that you idiot." Rick said in an annoyed voice. "If someone, per chance, summons Lord Nelson or Alexander the Great, get me their autographs, won't you?" he said.

"You know, Westinghouse, that's kind of a tall order. I mean, we'll all be busy killing each other, you know?" I said uneasily.

"Just keep it in mind, alright?" Rick said impatiently as he reached for the phone and began dialing. The next few hours were extremely confusing. I had decided to go back to sleep on Rick's sofa and would wake up occasionally to find Rick still on the phone. The sheaf of papers was delivered to Rick's house at five in the morning. He woke me up and we pored over the strange writing.

"Saber? Archer. Lancer. Rider? Berserker. Assassin. Caster." I read from the papers. I rubbed my eyes, which still seemed full of Morpheus's sand, and stifled a yawn. I reached for my pocket before remembering that I still didn't have any cigarettes. "Whoever created these class names had obviously no imagination." I quipped drowsily.

"Or was Japanese." Rick added. He may have been up for thirteen or fourteen hours but he still looked as fresh as ever. Smug bastard.

"Or Japanese." I said, nodding briefly at him. "The summoning requires a special circle and should ideally be conducted near a large ley-line." I said as I looked at the instructions. The summoning circle required two pages for illustration and even then, several details were extremely minuscule. I looked for a magnifying glass, found one and then re-examined the illustration with the glass under my gaze. Whoever designed this circle was either extremely thorough in practicing magic or was a sadistic bastard. Probably both.

"The closest major ley-line is around a hundred miles away." Rick said, looking at me uncertainly.

"I am not going to summon King Arthur here, you idiot. I am not even sure whether I should summon him at all." I said.

"Why not? If you want the wish, you have to summon him." Rick said.

"I am not sure because for all I know, this might be the biggest cock and bull story the forces of Hell are trying to feed me. What do I know about all of this being authentic?" I said bitterly. I hate it when things are too good to be true because they often are.

"You got that blood tattoo thing on your hand." Rick pointed out.

"This," I said, raising my hand and showing it to Rick. "Proves nothing! Hell has enough magic at its disposal to conquer Earth in a single day. The only thing that keeps them in check is the Heavenly Host. Something like this is the perfect way to lure people into selling their souls, one wish at a time." I finished yelling before getting up and heading to the loo.

"It might be authentic." Rick said quietly when I returned. I stopped myself from sighing exasperatedly. Rick was just as fascinated with the occult and the magical as any other mundane. Maybe even unhealthily so. And now it seems that he really wanted his autograph of Alexander the Great or Lord Nelson even if the chances of them getting summoned in this bloody War was slim at best. But he was right. I had no proof that all of this was just a charade by Hell. And if this was real and I passed such a great opportunity, I don't think I would be able to forgive myself.

"There is only one way to find out." I said as I stood up and started hunting for my shoes. I found them by the broken telly and shoved them on. A few minutes later, both of us were decent. Rick put out the fire while I picked up the duffel bag, making sure it was tightly zipped shut. We stepped out of the warmth of the house and into the cold streets of London. A few minutes later, we had hired a rusty Ford Granada which seemed to be at least ten years old.

Three hours later, I was standing on the Salisbury plains, smoking a fag. We had stopped briefly in Amesbury for tea and cake and had refueled the car just in case. Snow had piled furiously on the fields, an absurd expression but the only one that came to mind. It was a long way to come and freeze my balls off just to prove something but I needed to prove it.

"Stonehenge? Constantine, are you in your mind?" Rick yelled over the sudden wind.

"Well why not?" I shrugged with a grin. "A major ley-line passes through here and old King Artie can have a bit of a lark, being back at a place he can recognize."

"I don't mean that! I just thought you were surveying the plains! You actually are going to summon him in this blasted weather?" Rick yelled in a quavering voice, unable to keep his voice from shaking. We weren't dressed warmly enough for standing in the open. London was actually warmer than this. Still, I had made it this far, it would be quite a waste to get cold feet right now.

The snow inside the circle of stones was melted in an instant by a simple fire spell. Presently, both Rick and I got to work on ploughing the frozen earth into the shape of the summoning circle.

"Would this even work?" Rick asked as he looked at our handiwork. I laid down the duffel bag containing Avalon near my feet as I inspected our wonky handiwork. It seemed good enough. I had selected this place not because it was isolated but because I think the excess amount of energy being emitted from the ley-line might make up for any cock-ups I might commit. I reached down in to the duffel bag and pulled out the notes Rick had so mysteriously procured. I looked up and paused a moment before starting the spell.

This wasn't for something useless like wealth, money, honor or glory. This is for something better, if I can say so myself. This is for Astra who didn't deserve to be dragged off to Hell for my mistakes. Not that I want to be dragged off in her place but I just want to save her without harming myself.

Christ, I am sounding like one of those foppish lounge lizards who seduce old ladies for money. I shook my head to clear my brain and triggered my magical circuits.

"Alright, here goes. _Let silver and steel be the essence._" I begin chanting the spell to summon King Arthur as I formally enter the Holy Grail War of Japan.


	3. Chapter 3

The Laughing Master: Chapter Three

SABER

I had finished the incantation and against my expectations, the entire thing hadn't blown up in my face. I can't help but smile. I could get used to success like this. The summoning had, however, somehow managed to melt all the snow that had fallen on the summoning circle during my spell chant and some of the surrounding snow as well. I was now standing, with the legendary scabbard Avalon inside a duffel bag at my feet, in the middle of Stonehenge while steam all around me wafted gently in the cold Salisbury breeze as snow fell from the heavens. The entire spectacle looked and felt extremely mystical. In fact, if it wasn't for someone yelling in the background, I would have even called it beautiful.

"Constantine!" I heard Rick yell.

"What is it?" I yelled back in annoyance. Bugger that idiot. Couldn't he jolly well let me enjoy the moment? This sort of thing only happens once every sixty years or so, according to the instructions anyways.

"The snow's on fire!" Rick yelled in a panicked voice.

"The what?" I said, a little surprised at what Rick was yelling.

"It's on fire, you idiot! The snow's on fire!" Rick yelled, his voice definitely sounding terrified. Puzzled, I ran over to him.

The snow was on fire. I yelled in surprise and started stamping on it. Rick joined me and together we began trying to put out that paradoxical fire.

I should've known that summoning had gone too well. Something always happens when things are too good.

Fortunately, this weird fire turned out to go out like any normal fire if it was stamped on. A few minutes later, both of us were standing in hot slush, sweating like pigs. The steam had settled down now and the breeze was now freezing us to death.

"Const-t-t-tantine. L-l-look!" Rick said, now shivering viciously. Poor bastard. Maybe I shouldn't have dragged him all the way here. I looked back at the summoning circle and saw one noticeable change.

The steam was pretty much gone now and there was a girl in a blue dress and some other strange clothing standing in the middle of the summoning circle. A girl who looked extremely annoyed. Oh bugger, looks like some mundane got too curious and decided to explore.

"Help me out here, Rick. I need you to hold her down as I wipe that girl's memory." I said.

"Y-y-you can d-d-do that?" Rick asked in a surprised tone. What's the matter, Rick? Don't you believe in magic? This is one of the easiest spells I know. Sometimes, I don't even have to use a spell to make people forget. Mundanes are gullible like that, bless those poor bastards.

"I can hear both of you, you know." The girl said. Oh bollocks. Well, in hindsight, it was a pretty dumb idea to talk about mind wiping the girl who was standing barely ten feet away.

Now that I took a closer and longer look, she sort of looked like she was dressed in armor. Quite strange. Was she reciting for a play perhaps?

"What's the matter, miss? Are you lost?" I asked hesitantly. I needed her to lower her guard before I could hypnotize her. The girl scowled for the first time. I don't like scowling girls. When girls make an ugly face in front of me, it usually is somehow my fault.

"As, I already said," The girl said, her voice firm and carrying hints of annoyance. "I am the Servant Saber. Upon your summoning, I have come forth. I ask of thee, are you my Master?"

There was the briefest pause as my mind made several leaps in logic before I arrived at the conclusion.

"You're King Arthur?" I said, barely able to contain my volume.

"There is no need to shout." The girl, the female King Arthur said in a slightly annoyed voice. "I can see the Command Spells on the back of your hand. So it seems that you are my Master for this War. Very well, upon my honor as a Knight, I vow to be your sword and shield." She said, all emotion suddenly gone.

"You're King Arthur?" I repeated, my mind still unable to wrap itself around the fact. It was kind of logical though. I could feel a magical connection between her and me, although it was quite faint for some reason. She had appeared inside the summoning circle, wearing queer armor and was calling herself Servant Saber. She should be King Arthur. But I still couldn't stop feeling surprised.

"Come on, your Majesty, Miss, Sir." Rick said before helplessly looking at me. "What do I call her, Constantine?"

"She's King Arthur." I repeated stupidly. I think my brain had kind of locked itself down. Amazing thing, isn't it? I have stared at mutilated corpses, the legions of the damned, the Clock Tower's Enforcer army, an Elder God's children, a vampire's spawn and what I can't believe is that King Arthur was actually a woman.

"What should I call you Miss? I mean, your Majesty?" Rick said a tad bit helplessly.

"Saber will be adequate. I am here in this era to serve as a knight and Servant, not as a king." Saber said. Couldn't she show a bit more emotion? She had only expressed annoyance before and now seemed to have locked up all her expression as if in penance for her outbursts before. If you could call them outbursts, that is.

"Right, right. Um, so help me carry Constantine to the car, will you? That's a good lass. Oops, I mean…" Rick said, awkwardly gesturing and gesticulating wildly. If Saber minded, she didn't show it. She simply grabbed me by the forearm. I yanked my arm away.

"I can walk on my own, thank you very much." I said gruffly. I didn't mean to sound so rude but I had blown any opportunity to establish a good impression on King Arthur. Now I was stuck with a hard mouthed Saber and an extremely flustered Rick. The three of us walked back to the Granada in silence. Rick chauffeured, Saber silently sat in the back while I took the front seat. We left Amesbury in silence.

"I still can't believe she is a woman." I muttered, my brain finally accepting reality.

* * *

The clouds had parted by now and the weakest rays of sunshine fell on the rotten hive called London. People decided to crawl out of their dwellings and scurry about the streets. Somewhere in London, football fanatics would be busy beating the shit out of each other or getting piss drunk. Homeless beggars huddled in alleys that weren't supposed to exist on paper, out of sight of the affluent and the well-off. Patches of the streets were shadowed by hoardings. The air was dank with the scent of rubbish.

"Welcome to modern times, your Majesty. How do you like your kingdom?" I said. I couldn't help myself. Maybe it was because I was still in an irrationally sour mood for her being a woman. Or maybe I thought I was being funny. Whatever it was, I immediately regretted it when I saw Saber show genuine emotion. A mixture of distress, regret and shame, all at once, seemed to pass across her face. "I am sorry, that was rude of me." I apologized but the damage was done.

"She's Welsh, you idiot." Rick said as he steered the car through a particularly tricky series of streets.

"I am sorry?" I said.

"King Arthur was a Welsh King, not a Saxon. London probably wasn't part of her kingdom." Rick said. He stopped the car at a red light and turned to face Saber. "Begging your pardon for this, your Majesty, but may I ask a question about your times?" he said. Saber looked sort of confused but nodded.

"Why did Merlin make Stonehenge?" he asked.

"He had Stonehenge made so that people in the future would wonder why did he make it. It was his idea of a practical joke." Saber said, her voice still emotionless.

"Well, that explains so much." I muttered as Rick stopped the car in front of the rental agency.

Minutes later, we were inside Rick's house. Saber looked around impassively. I noticed that she was staying quite close to me. I shrugged before taking off my trenchcoat and throwing it over the sofa and lying down on it. I opened one eye and saw that Saber was standing quite close to me, not uncomfortably close but just close enough to make me wonder.

That was when the link between me and her began to strengthen. Strange information began to leak into my mind. Just by looking at her, I could gauge Saber's strength, agility and such parameters. It was making my vision go wonky so I sat up once again and lit a fag.

"Rick, I need you to hunt down the names of any Grail War participants." I said before turning to face Saber. For a moment, I couldn't say anything. Nothing came to mind at all. How was one supposed to talk to King Arthur when he was a woman and had pledged himself to your service for two weeks? At least, I am supposing that it's two weeks. Christ, I am not ready to deal with this.

Maybe I am focusing too much on a stupid issue. I am too much focused on the fact that she is a woman and letting that cloud my judgment. Let's see, if I was going into a War, the first thing I would do is ascertain the position of the enemy.

"Saber," I said, trying to muster a sound of authority in my voice. "Can you sense other Servants? And if so, can you tell if there are any nearby?"

"There is one Servant inside this city but I cannot tell how strong he is or who he is." Saber immediately answered. I blinked in surprise. That was fast.

"Can you point out where the Servant is?" I asked cautiously, not wanting to get my hopes up. Saber simply raised her arm and pointed. I exhaled a cloud of smoke.

"Clock Tower, eh?" I said bitterly. Not a surprise. I would have assumed at least one bastard making his way into this competition. Britain is the country with the greatest amount of magical activity going on at any moment. Most blokes here wouldn't wait for a second before flinging fireballs at each other. The fights are often completely pointless. Not that most hooligans, magical or mundane, need something as useless as a reason to fight. With all of this magic in the air, I am kind of surprised that Saber managed to detect another Servant at least two kilometers away.

I looked at Saber once more and once again, the weird bits of information started seeping into my brain. It's kind of bothersome but I think it is part of the package so there's no use in complaining.

"Saber, how much time do we have until the Grail War starts? I am assuming that you do know about the Grail War." I asked.

"From what I can tell," Saber said, honoring my presence by looking me in the eye. "The Grail War starts in two to three days. The day after tomorrow is the last day for anyone to summon their Servant."

"Right," I said, not knowing on how to continue. I would need supplies, fags, clothes, someone who speaks the language. "Rick, fancy a trip to Japan?"

"Oh hell no, Constantine. Have you forgotten Spain already? Shroud of Turin my arse, you stole my clothes!" Rick said angrily.

"That was only one time!" I protested.

"It's not happening, look you." Rick growled. I clammed up. There was no moving that Welsh boy now.

"Alright, how about you dig up some stuff about the other participants, there's a good lad?" I said.

"Sure. It's cost you a hundred thousand quid." Rick said.

"A hundred thousand? I don't have that much, Westinghouse!" I exploded. Why was he suddenly being so uncooperative? Is it because he wants to get back at me for dragging him to Salisbury? Or maybe my tab has run up?

"Don't tell me you spent all ten diamonds in bars, Constantine." Rick said. I paused. I did have at least three million in my bank, now that I thought about it.

"Alright, I'll pay. Let me just make a big withdrawal." I said tiredly, reaching for my trenchcoat. Saber had remained a silent spectator throughout our little row.

"By the way, Ava-ooof!" Rick began before I suddenly grabbed him by the collar and dragged him outside, making sure to close the door behind me.

"What was that for?" Rick asked angrily.

"You idiot, don't just casually tell her that I have the scabbard." I whispered fiercely into his ear.

"Well, why not?" Rick asked, confused.

"Look, I saw how strong she is." I said before realizing that Saber hadn't performed anything noteworthy. Rick looked even more confused now. I decided to press on. "I mean, I can tell how strong she is. She is bloody strong and I'll need everything at my disposal to rein her in." I clarified, somewhat haphazardly.

"But I thought that's what those Command Spell things were for." Rick said. I looked at my hand. The curved sword and two crosses stared back at me, reminding me of a smiley face. It seemed to mock me for some reason.

"How would you convince someone powerful to work for you?" I said, changing the subject abruptly.

"You offer them something they want, I suppose." Rick said hesitantly.

"Exactly." I said, surprising Rick. Idiot probably didn't expect to be right. "I am guessing that she has been promised the Grail as well and if I tell her that I can't give her the Grail then I don't think even a thousand Command Spells would be able to save me from her."

"How would you know that she has been promised the Grail?" Rick asked.

I paused for a moment before dragging one last smoke out of my cigarette and dropping it on the ground. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Saber looking at the two of us through the window with a decidedly guarded expression. How did I know she had been promised the Grail? This was something that boiled down to my years of experience as an occult specialist.

It's not even human nature to want something. It's more like living nature. Or in case of people who have never been born and will never die, it's the nature of existence. To live, to have an identity means to want something, to crave something. Basically speaking, everyone wants something. It's how life goes by. Small animals want basic things like food and the occasional shag while higher end organisms and entities crave for godhood and world domination. If you know what someone wants then it becomes quite easy to hold them hostage.

A wish, on the other hand, is the biggest blank cheque you can write. It doesn't just cater to one specific species or class, it applies to everybody. You can get anybody, perhaps even the Authority, to do what you want if you promise them a wish.

Servants are no exception. They're just famous dead blokes walking around well after their prime after all.

The problem here is that the Masters, the ones whose hands are on the leashes of the dead blokes, are promised a wish as well. I am guessing the only way the dynamic between the two of them works is through the Command Spells but I don't trust the Command Spells as far as I can throw Saber. That's why I need to keep the existence of Avalon a secret. And to do so, I need to hide Avalon in plain sight.

"Keep Saber busy. I am going to make a few transactions." I said as I went inside to retrieve a duffel bag containing a certain legendary scabbard.

* * *

"Welcome to Japan!" the air hostess said cheerfully as Saber and I disembarked the plane.

"I don't like these clothes. They are too conspicuous." Saber complained.

"The clothes aren't conspicuous. We are." I hissed back. It was true. The two of us stood out like sore thumbs. Slant eyed bastards were all around us, making me feel edgy. Although Saber had reassured me that her connection to the Grail made her capable of speaking Japanese, I still didn't feel at ease. Maybe it was because I had finally learned how to hide Avalon in plain sight. It had taken me four hours of running various test, spells and tricks but finally, I discovered how to show the sheath into my body. Looking back at the past few days, I am surprised that I found it before any heroic minded idiot. Knowing what goes on these days, I had kind of expected the sheath to be in the hands of some meta or masked teenage brat who was using the code name 'Agent Excalibur'. Everybody wants to be a superhero these days. Bollocks.

Or it could simply be because I was currently carrying enough narcotics, hallucinogens, magical performance enhancers and illegal herbs in my suit case to kill the entire population in the Clock Tower. There was also a gun in there, not that I wanted to take one but Rick forced me to do so. As much as I hate firearms, I had to admit that the chap had a point. I couldn't always rely on Saber after all.

Although Saber might be true as well. She had agreed to go in civilian clothing but the clothes I had gotten her were not suited for blending in the population. I'll admit that her black trench coat was something bought on a whim but the whole three piece suit itself was something Rick bought. I wonder how he knew it would fit Saber.

So, I like trenchcoats. Bite me.

"I trust you made plans for our accommodations in this city." Saber said tersely. I looked at her, noting her sudden tenseness. I had forbidden her from using the word Master because I found it extremely unnerving. A seemingly fifteen years old girl calling a middle aged man Master wouldn't just raise eyebrows.

"Westinghouse has booked us a room in the Marriott." I answered. The two of us walked out of the airport.

Clean and fresh air welcomed me. It smelled of green tea, mountain dew and oranges. The traffic in front of me was orderly and sparse. Men in business suits and young girls in clothes resembling sailor uniforms walked briskly on the streets. The atmosphere crackled with an electric tension similar to Salisbury; We were standing somewhere near a major ley-line. This city was devoid of any hoardings, something I found slightly startling. How did the companies in this country advertise their stuff?

"Well," I said as I took it all in. "I guess this is it."

From now on, six other bastards with six famous bastards under their control were going to try to kill me during a period of two weeks for the sake of a single wish.

The Holy Grail War had began.

* * *

**Name: Arturia Pendragon**

**Class: Saber**

**STR: A**

**END: A**

**AGL: B**

**MAG: C**

**LUC: E**

**Secondary Skills:**

**Magical Resistance: C (Degraded due to Constantine's own tainted magic)**

**Riding: A**

**Personal Skills:**

**Charisma: B**

**Instinct: A**

**Prana Burst: A**

**Noble Phantasms:**

**Invisible Air: C (Anti-Unit)**

**Excalibur: Sword of Promised Victory: A++ (Anti-Fortress)**


	4. Chapter 4

The Laughing Master: Chapter Four

TRUMP

I took a step back and inspected my handwork as I took off my mask. All over the walls of the expensive hotel room of the Marriott, in which I was staying, were various runes, seals, glyphs and magical circles which I had just drawn with spray paint. Several cans littered the floor and the air was heavy with fumes. Saber, however, seemed perfectly fine and I decided not to open the windows for now. Hopefully, all of these would be enough to protect me from any supernatural attack. They might even hold up against some mundane bomb or explosive but a sufficiently large or intense explosion might overcome this defense. Which is why I had prepared for that situation as well.

I had booked a room in the Marriott under the name of Gary Lester, a late friend of mine. And instead of staying in that room, I had hypnotized a young looking Japanese bloke to leave the hotel and go back home without checking out. I was currently inside his room, painting symbols on the walls. I have no doubt that any one of the other Masters would track me down. They would make the connection between the names Gary Lester and John Constantine and understand that I had booked that room under that name. And if they would pay closer attention, they might even see my double bluff.

Christ, I missed these thrilling experiences. I've been out of the game for a bit too long now.

Saber was, surprisingly, reading a newspaper instead of just standing around and staring at me unblinkingly, a development for which I was infinitely grateful. It just doesn't feel right when someone stands at your beck and call like that. At least, I don't like it. I carefully make sure a series of glyphs I have drawn are correct because they will help me in astral projection.

I am not good at making familiars which is why I prefer the astral realm. There is also the fact that some of my best acts have taken place there. Since time is a distorted concept in the spirit plane, you can sometimes end up spending years wandering and comeback only a few minutes later or you could simply go out on a lark for a few minutes and come back to find yourself in Delphi. But it is an extremely useful way of spying on people and that's why I mainly rely on it.

"Well, I suppose this will do the trick." I muttered to myself. "Saber, keep watch over my body. If I remain out of consciousness for more than five minutes, stick this into my thigh and inject me. I don't wake up, stick the second one." I told her Majesty as I handed her two adrenaline pens. The chemical would cause my demonic blood to excite and may cause a minor heart attack. But it would forcibly yank my spirit back to my body. Saber gingerly took the devices from me and inspected them closely.

"Do you need to use such a risky maneuver?" Saber asked cautiously. I considered her question.

"No but what's the point of a boring life?" I said before projecting astrally.

That was the first wrong move that evening.

Turbulent winds swept my spirit from my original standing and blew me off course. No, it wasn't blowing me off course at all. What I imagined to be a wind was in fact a sucking force of tremendous power, something evil and malevolent and just wrong pulling at all the magical energy in the area. I just happened to be a bit of flotsam caught in the current.

I look around me, disoriented by my dual vision of spiritual and material sight. The magical energy is slowly being absorbed by something on a nearby mountain, something powerful. But there is something incredibly malevolent under the mountain which is pulling at the spirit realm. I cannot make sense of anything. Is the thing under the mountain sucking magical power as well? Or it isn't?

I am still being pulled along and there is no way for me to fight my way out. Spirits of various small sizes are being pulled along as well, too pathetic to even fight back. Are they animals? Or are they the spirits of the deceased?

Or something else entirely?

I can't think. The malevolent entity under the mountain casts a vicious eye on me, daring me to even hope. And I can't. I simply fight and thrash.

There is a point in the flow where both suction forces cancel each other out; a spiritual anchorage. With my last remaining energy and will, I try to swim for that point. The safe point is on top of a sky scraper. I hurriedly try to bind myself to the building but I am too weak to do so. I can only linger here for a few minutes. At least the entity's influence is quite weaker here. I try to compose myself but the malevolence in the atmosphere makes it extremely hard. This malevolence is quite baffling. Most influences try to corrupt people into doing evil deeds, this entity doesn't even bother. It seems to hate everything.

However, I can sense other, powerful influences, even through the miasma of hate. There is a particularly brilliant golden aura on the other side of town, practically bursting out of the seams of the mansion it was in. It gave the impression of being even larger. It possessed neither angelic grace nor demonic seductiveness, it simply was.

The second aura was almost as large as the golden one. This one was sort of reddish but it also seemed to crackle with lightening and life. The third one was smaller than the first two but the amount of agony and madness it emitted was comparable in intensity to the first two. Now that I had located three Servants, I tried to look back at the Marriott. I then noticed another thing.

Saber didn't have an aura. It was quite startling to not that there was no blue ball of light emitting an air of authority and aloofness. That's quite paradoxical but it works to my advantage. I had figured that Servants would be easier track down in the spirit plane since they are walking stiffs. The instructions Rick had brought me mentioned that Servants could materialize and dematerialize which made certain that they are nothing but absurdly powerful ghosts able to interact with the material realm. But if that was so, didn't they feel the pull of the entity too? Or maybe I am the only one who could sense it. But if so, why?

The anchorage I was standing in slips and shifts. Like quicksand it moves under me. In a few seconds, the anchorage will disappear. I hurriedly look around and find another anchorage. Gathering all my strength of will, I jump for that spot and finally managed to make it, despite the huge resistance. It's a street light. I stand beside it, inside a void in the flow. People walk around me oblivious to the magic and malevolence. Perhaps the malevolence can't affect those with a body? That would explain why the Servants and Master's don't feel it.

It's here where I notice that there are enough safe spots on the ground for me to safely make it back to the hotel room. Not wasting a single moment, I make my way back, one anchor at a time.

* * *

I burst back into my body, gasping for breath. Saber is still standing where I left her. I startle her slightly but I don't care. Staggering to the toilet, I open the john and vomit uncontrollably. The malevolence was potent enough to somehow taint my already corrupted spirit. I don't know if it is going to hurt in the long run or not. Right now, I simply focus on emptying my intestines.

"Constantine, are you alright?" I heard Saber's voice.

"How long was I out?" I rasp in between hurling. "Barely a few moments." Comes the answer. Somehow that doesn't surprise me. If the spirit world is in such a hurry, it's time will be affected as well. Considering that I spent roughly ten minutes in there and only five seconds or so passed in the material world, I am guessing that spirit time is nearly a hundred times faster than normal time. I finish vomiting and crawl back to the room. Saber looks apprehensive and even sympathetic but she doesn't help me. I appreciate her gesture. Any sympathy right now would be extremely insulting.

I pull myself into the sofa and simply collapse there, too weak for any further activity. Whatever entity it was, it was damn powerful to bugger me like that. Christ, I expected the War to be a handful but this is getting ridiculous. One of the reasons I am so good at cheating devils and angels is that angels, mostly the lower ranked ones, don't often suspect foul play and the devils always do. Knowing how they think, I can always plan a way round. It's a damn sad thing but most of these heavenly and hellish blokes have the same way of thinking. You meet one demon or angel you meet them all.

Humans, on the other hand, are so vastly different that even an ordinary con on a human takes me as much thinking as a con on a duke of hell or an archangel. And these are for ordinary humans. Servants are, despite all their power, humans. Which means I'll have prepare to fool twelve human, six of them who could snap me like a twig at any time of the day and another six who would probably throw enough magic at me to fry my balls off.

Charming. I reach for my trenchcoat and pull out the box of fags. I flip open the box.

It's empty.

"Oh fuck." I groan. No Silk Cuts? How am I supposed to even function in this war now? Through supreme effort, I pull myself up. I am not going to just lie here when there are fags to be smoked out there. I stand up with every fibre in my being protesting against the action.

And immediately fall on my face.

"Constantine, are you sure you're alright?" Saber asked, worry finally coloring her voice. It's kind of nice for her to worry about me but I know that she is only worried about me because I am supporting her magically. If I go down then so does she.

"Cigarettes. I need cigarettes." I rasp as I try to pull myself to my feet. A sudden feeling of claustrophobia decides to attack me. Strange, considering that after my experiences outside, I should be more afraid of the outside.

"Are you sure that is a wise decision?" Saber asks sternly. I look at her. Don't talk to me as if you are my mother or father or legal guardian is what I want to say. But the sentence itself is too funny in my head.

"Probably not." I shrug. "But I can only calm down and think rationally after a scenario like that after a good smoke." I said. I look at her. "You can come with me if you want." I say but I know that even if I hadn't offered, she would have followed me. Saber looks torn between obeying my stupid orders and her common sense. In the end, she helps me up to my feet, puts my arm around her neck and easily supports my weight. Together, both of us make our way outside.

There were no cigarettes in the hotel's vending machine and gift shop so we had to exit the building. Fuyuki City is different at night. The magic almost seems to come alive. I can't sense the spiritual eddies and flows but the magic I can sense. The night if filled with scents of oranges and cherries. I can't understand why this city smells so fruity but I don't like it. It might be pleasant but knowing that a magical war is about to be waged, the sweet smells seem a bit rotten. I miss London. At least I knew the ins and outs of that place. Here, I am a foreigner in a foreign land.

After going through six shops, I decide to buy some Marlboro and Dragon Smoke cigarettes. Damn bastards don't import Silk Cuts. These slant eyed blokes don't know what they are missing. We decide to sit down in front a public library. I pull out a Marlboro, light it with a snap of my fingers and inhale. The welcome smoke fills my lungs and fills me with bliss.

The bliss is very quickly interrupted by someone breaking out of the library. Saber gets up, already in a fighting stance. She doesn't activate her armor just yet, her eye fixed on the figure emerging from the library. I stand behind her. Call me a coward but I prefer being safe as compared to being skewered.

A young lad of about sixteen jumps out of his hiding place and starts yelling at the gigantic man who had come out of the library. The boy was completely unremarkable save for the fact that he had feminine features and was even more reckless than I am. Or perhaps he, in his delusion of being a Master, felt safe against the gigantic man in red.

I was proven right moment later when the giant casually flicked away the young boy. Remarkably, the boy's skull was in one piece after that. And then the giant saw us.

"It seems that we have an audience here!" He boomed. Christ, does this man not understand the meaning of tact? Or volume control? "Fellow Heroes and Master, I, Iskander, the King of Conquerers! I have been summoned into the Rider class for this upcoming magnificent battle. In honor of this, I bid you welcome to this magnificent city! Come, let's at least introduce ourselves as Heroes worthy of the admiration of the masses!"

"Saber." I said cautiously. "Please don't reveal your identity." Saber simply nodded but she activated her armor nonetheless. This was the second time I had seen it but it takes my breath away every time. Most magic I have seen is usually effective but not graceful or the other way round. Saber's manner of magically activating her armor is both.

"King of Conquerers, I offer you greetings in return and thank you for your hearty welcome. I am the Servant Saber and I regret to say that I cannot revel to you my name. It is a pity but it is a necessary precaution." Saber said. Her tone is guarded. I get the feeling that Iskander, whoever he is, hasn't made a good impression on her. She is being polite simply out of habit and her respect for a fellow Heroic Spirit.

Wait, Iskander, King of Conquerers? Doesn't that mean, Alexander the Great?

The Alexander the Great? THE Alexander the Great?

How come this great oaf managed to conquer half of the world?

More to the point, why was his hair red? And why was he so tall? That doesn't match the physique he should have! He is Macedonian! He should have black hair and should be around five feet five inches, not some giant of six and three! There is just too much wrong with all of this. Has all of our history been a lie? That would seriously take the piss out of historical jokes.

"That's indeed quite unfortunate." Iskander said but he didn't look particularly disturbed about it. Rather, the giant looked as if he wanted to quickly move onto another topic. He looked at me with red eyes, another thing that shouldn't be natural and gave me the biggest grin that was humanely possible. It was ridiculous yet somehow extremely charismatic.

"And what about you, Saber's Master? Are you willing to introduce yourself?" He asked me. I briefly consider backing down. The problem in getting chummy with me the enemy is that sooner or later you end up as chums. And when the times comes, one bastard needs to kill the other bastard. But what the hell, it's not every day you meet Alexander the Great. And he seems like a nice bloke anyway.

"My name is John Collier Constantine. I am the Master of Saber and I would like to ask a favor of you, Mr. Alexander." I said, trying to summon as much casual indifference. I somehow manage to look confident in front of him. Not bad, if I do say so myself. Alexander's grin widens, if that's even possible. Saber looks at me incredulously while Rider's Master looks at me fearfully.

"Ohoho, you're quite the plucky one! Very well, ask away!" Rider said magnanimously.

"I promised a friend of mine an autograph of you if possible. I made that promise in jest but since you have actually been summoned, I guess I should fulfill it." I say, trying to keep swear words and vulgarity out of my voice. Alexander looked like the kind of bloke who wouldn't mind if you tricked him into paying the bill but I could be wrong.

"Hmm, it seems that even in this age, my exploits haven't been forgotten. Very well, I'll grant it!" He said before opening one of the two books that were in his hand. He tore off the blank page inside, making his Master cry out in rage.

"You idiot, those are library books!" he said indignantly but was ignored by the red headed giant of Macedon.

"Ah, quit your whining, Waver Velvet. Can you not see that I am entertaining guests? And by the way, do you happen to have an instrument I could write with? A kalamos or a quill, perhaps?" Alexander said impatiently. Realizing that it was futile to argue against his own Servant, the young boy sighed and pulled out a fountain pen which he handed to Alexander. Alexander took it before inspecting it.

"A most interesting device! What is its function?" He asked before suddenly answering his own question. "Ah, so it is a writing implement? Intriguing, most intriguing!" He started writing his own name on the paper. "A most smooth writing instrument! And metallic as well! I feel a deep familiarity with this instrument. Perhaps its metal was once part of my sword? Waver you must let me keep this marvelous tool! It is too valuable for me not to let go!" he exclaimed as he handed me the torn page. I quickly folded it and put it inside my coat pocket.

"Valuable? It only cost me five shillings. I could get you a whole dozen if you want." Waver said in a depressed tone. I was torn between rolling my eyes and getting excited. It was extremely stupid how Iskander was getting excited over something as simple as pen but on the other hand, his sheer enthusiasm was carrying me along as well.

"Are you saying that it is possible to obtain similar writing instruments en masse?" Alexander asked, eyes narrowed. Waver looked uneasily. Saber, on the other hand, simply frowned. I am guessing that she was tired of all of this mucking around pointlessly over a bummed pen.

"Well, yeah. What's there to it?" Waver asked uneasily. He simply got another finger flick to the forehead. I didn't anticipate this.

"Fool! It is a matter of utmost importance! We must stockpile ourselves with these magnificent writing instruments for the scribes that'll soon be part of my army." Alexander roared. Flinching but still unable to keep from smiling, I helped Waver back to his feet.

"What army, Rider?" Saber said. It was slightly surprising to hear her speak up after all of this fooling around.

"Ah yes, before we leave, I do have one offer for you, Saber." Alexander said. He stood straight and cleared his throat importantly before throwing his arms wide.

"Join my peerless army! I can see that you are a warrior of great strength and fortitude! Your participation will be greatly appreciated! Abandon your quest for the Grail and join me to conquer the heavens! I shall treat you as a peer and equal despite your gender! With our combined might, the conquest of the world will be trivially easy!" he roared enthusiastically. I actually flinched several times during his screaming.

"I am truly sorry, Rider," Saber said but her tone indicated that she was furious instead of angry. "But I cannot serve you. I have promised my Master the Grail and I cannot break my oath so easily."

"That's a shame." Rider said before turning to me. "So I'll just have to ask your Master instead! You won't mind if it's your Master's order to abandon the Grail, would you?" he said mischievously.

"Are you insane, Rider? Does the name John Constantine not ring a bell in your head? Oh wait, it shouldn't but never mind that! He is the most dangerous criminal in the history of magecraft! He broke into the Clock Tower to mock the Head! He has destroyed entire lineages of families merely through words and tricks! He is a dishonorable, lying, two-faced thief!" Waver Velvet, the lad with no spine, suddenly decided to grow three at once.

"Is that true?" Rider said, running a critical eye all over me. I casually took out the fag in my mouth, which had burnt itself out.

"Report of my exploits tend to be greatly exaggerated." I said calmly.

"Exaggerated my foot, I was a first year when you broke in! You actually released Gazamy the Wraith just to throw off the Enforcer team!" Waver Velvet said, practically foaming at the mouth. Well, it looks like someone is skilled at taking the piss out of things.

"Hmm, it seems that you too share a taste of adventure like me." Rider said. "So what do you think? Doesn't the idea of conquering the world warm your heart? I will even give you a country of your own to govern!" Rider said.

For a moment, I was severely tempted. I guess this was how Eve felt when Samael offered her the fruit. Or the time when Christ gave in. The idea was too good to pass up. I could have control and crush all of those bastards who dare to perform sickening rituals. I could make the country one free of all those shadowy bastards who think they could control them and lead them.

"Constantine." Saber said warningly.

I could even set up a whole new series of bars. Beer would flow from the streets. Football matches would be held in better stadiums. A better motorway. London, Cardiff, Northampton, Liverpool, Edinburgh, Newcastle…

Newcastle…

"I am sorry but I'll have to refuse. I need the Grail desperately." I said with a forced smile. Alexander's smile lessened and immediately all the charisma he seemed to carry around his person faded away, leaving me feeling rather cold.

What the hell was I even thinking, ruling over like the Queen? And more to the point, was that really something I wanted or was I getting carried away by Alexander's massive influence?

"I'd be willing to discuss terms." Alexander said rather somberly.

"Ah for the love of God, shut up already!" Waver yelled angrily. "They already refused so there is no point in discussing or negotiating. Besides, we are in a war! The whole point is killing them, isn't it?"

I look at the boy warily. I may have pegged him for a naïve idiot but he did say something spot on for once. Alexander and Waver were our enemies, no matter how amusing blokes they might be.

"Let's go Saber. I think we've mucked around enough." I said as I turned to go. Saber nodded, looking relieved before walking alongside me.

"Saber! I hope that we'll be able to hold a parliament a few more times before meeting in battle." Rider called out. We ignored him and made our way back. Sometimes, the best move is not to place the game at all.

* * *

I double checked all the seals I had made on my body. Saber was in the other room after I had ordered her to leave. I felt too uncomfortable stripping too my pants in front of her. But since it was necessary, I had to do it. I had painted various seals and glyphs on my body. If I had used the correct combination, and I really hoped that I had used the correct combination, then my spirit won't feel the effects of the soul-sucking abomination under the mountain. Feeling apprehensive, I put on my shirt and trousers. The trenchcoat remained on the floor. I rechecked the position of the Einzbern Castle on the map before lying down on the sofa.

"You can come back in Saber." I said. Saber complied before looking at me questioningly. I handed her the two adrenaline pens."You know what to do. If I don't wake up in a minute, give me the first pen. If not, the second pen. And if I still don't wake up then kiss your bum good bye." I instructed her before exiting my body.

The look of outrage on her face was almost worth it.

The spirit realm was as fast as ever but the runes and glyphs held out. Instead of feeling like a piece of wood in the flow of a flood, I felt more like a man in a strong wind. The flow annoyed me but it couldn't make me budge. Well, that was one good thing in my favor. Taking off like a bird, I flew against the flow and after twenty minutes of flight, arrived at the Einzbern Castle. I didn't have time to admire the architecture because the castle had enough spiritual defense for me to make it impossible to enter the castle without triggering at least one.

So I decided not to care and waltz in. There were several defensive mechanisms that should've affected me, even in my spirit form, but thanks to all of the painting on my body, they only badly battered me instead of killing me outright. I was wrestling with a minor creature made out of silver wires when Kiritsugu Emiya stepped into the room.

"Call your creature off, I am here with an offer." I said quickly. The Japanese man didn't do anything but the creature seemed to unravel itself before disappearing. I brushed myself, as much as I spiritually could. Since Emiya was a magician, he would have no problem in seeing me, although I would seem like a pale ghost with lots of blue glyphs and runes drawn all over him. Emiya himself was an imposing man. He looked at me with eyes as soulless as the kraut's who had sent me to fetch Avalon. No, soulless wouldn't be the correct term. His eyes were simply empty. It was like looking into a deep pit, knowing in your heart that somewhere in the bottom lies a beast that shouldn't roused.

He was also wearing a coat similar to the one I had bought for Saber. Had to give the lad credit, he did have style.

"State your offer." Kiritsugu said. It wasn't a command or a request. It was a simple statement. And I had a simple answer for it.

"I am willing to offer you the whereabouts of Waver Velvet, Master of the Fourth Grail War's Servant Rider, real identity Alexander of Macedon in exchange for an alliance for the duration of the War until we are the last two standing." I said confidently. Kiritsugu narrowed his eyes. He didn't trust me. Smart lad.

It was about time someone had started the Grail War already.

* * *

**So some people have had queries and questions about the previous chapters. I shall try to answer them to the best of my abilities.**

**Yes, Saber does get a boost for being summoned inside the Stonehenge but no, it doesn't make sense for her to get equipped with her previous sword, spear and dagger. The reasons are simple. Since Arturia Pendragon can only be summoned in the Saber class, the rest of her weapons are automatically barred. Rhongomyniad would qualify her as a Lancer while Carnwennan, which is a dagger that can control darkness, would qualify her as an Assassin. But since she can only be summoned as a Saber, these two weapons are automatically barred. Caliburn, on the other hand, cannot appear due t the simple fact that it is a Lost Phantasm. Since Arturia broke it when she was alive, Caliburn cannot be wielded by her anymore. Which is why it is kind of amazing Shirou could project it in Fate. The only positive points she has for being summoned in England is the massive boosts in her stats. Constantine, as I mentioned, isn't much of a magus so if he had summoned her in Japan, her stats would have been even lower than if Shirou had summoned her.**

**Regarding Constantine and his stats, people were right to point out that I made them kind of contradictory. So let me clarify. Constantine's luck is Servant Class, something that should be impossible by modern standards. This is because of his lineage as a Laughing Magician. In his own series, it's a sort of a justification for why he keeps surviving and doing impossible cons. Simply put, Constantine has plot armor comparable to Gilgamesh or Iskander. All other stats, however, are by human standards. Constantine is not as strong as Assassin or even Caster.**

**Finally, an explanation on how Constantine managed to beat Otto von Einzbern despite Otto being stronger. Otto is a homunculus with a prana output comparable to five or six high ranking magi. The problem is that he is a homunculus with extremely high offense but extremely low defense. Compared to him, Constantine is like a quick draw gunslinger with a revolver containing five bullets. When the fight began, Constantine managed to fire first and thus ended the entire scenario in a few seconds. If Otto had gotten the jump on him, Constantine would have died or knowing his luck, been mauled within an inch of his life.**


End file.
